Chapter 10
"Richard!" I called. "Turn around and run away!"
However, it was too late. One of the four remaining cons had worked his way to the side of the doorway and stopped Richard in his tracks with a lunging bear-hug. He didn't quit squeezing until my son was an unconscious rag-doll.
After that, Richard was thrown on the sofa and discussed. "What'll we do with him?" was the concern of the consensus. Then one of them got specific with a dangerous line of thought. "Seems like every time we lose one of our own, we get one of them to take his place. Don't seem right."
"Yeah, maybe we oughta kill'm to change our luck," the apeman rumbled. "I could tear a little faggot like this to pieces with my bare hands."
"No, we've already had enough of that," Otis said without a trace of self-consciousness.
They started bickering. Then, in the midst of it, they were suddenly silenced by an irate Robin.
"Stop it!" she seethed. "I won't be ignored because of my goddamn little brother. Leave it to little Richard to always stick his nose into things at the wrong time. He's out like a light, so forget about him and fuck me some more. Mom can take care of him."
They agreed and quickly forgot about Richard and went to her lewdly positioned body. I couldn't tell whether her behavior had been a trick to protect her brother or the real goods.
In any case, what was done was done and I was quickly and gratefully at Richard's side.
I pressed my cheek to his brow, feeling if it was hot. My motherhood was so ingrained in me that after Richard's breath had been squeezed from his lungs I was checking to see if he had a fever.
Soon my cheek was caressing instead of acting as a thermometer. Then the caresses turned to soft and delicate kisses with which I covered my son's slack face.
The kisses didn't stop at his chin. I continued down his neck and opened his shirt so I could kiss his chest. Sucking his tiny nipples through his t-shirt, I made them stand out like pencil-erasers.
Then I had his shirt unbuttoned at the belly and was tonguing his navel. Scraggly little hairs that were growing in a sparse column below it tickled my lower lip.
All of a sudden I found myself facing his belt-buckle. Should I or shouldn't I undo it?
The answer was in his crotch. Richard's fly was taut from the bulging mass inside. As sure as I was his mother, my son had a hard-on. And I had given it to him.
I undid his belt and jeans without any further hesitation. I was literally drooling to get at his sweet young cock. A cock several years younger than even Otis'.
It came springing out in my tugging hands, everything that I had expected. It was a beautiful prick-smooth and slender, with pale blue veins just below the surface. And hard as a rock.
At six or seven inches, maybe it wasn't as long as a grown man's, but it was far more appealing. All of a sudden it seemed like the most natural thing in the world to seduce my own flesh and blood.
Like a trap, my mouth dropped over the head of Richard's cock. It seemed big enough to me as I swallowed the whole thing.
After a minute of straight sucking, I heard Richard begin to moan. He was unquestionably stirring. What a unique form of artificial respiration I had discovered.
He started talking. He was still out, but at least he was getting closer to consciousness.
He kept saying the same word over and over again, but I couldn't figure out what it meant at first. Then, the more I heard it, the more it seemed like a name.
"Eva, Eva," he said it more clearly than before.
"Eva Little?" I released his cock enough to ask.
"Yes," he replied. "She likes to take out my cock and play with it. Suck it. I thought she was doing it now."
Eva Little, I thought with disdain. She was nothing but the school tramp. Even the parents knew all the stories about her. I was offended by the thought of my splendid son having sex with such a common slut.
"Richard, how could you?" I was unable to withhold an expression of my emotions. "That girl is trash."
"Tell that to anybody who she's ever fucked and sucked," my son kept up his end of this bizarre conversation.
All of a sudden I felt challenged. As though I were being implicitly dared to prove that I was more of a woman than some high school punch-board.
"Well, this is not Eva Little sucking your cock, Richard," I seethed. "And it won't be her tight cunt you wind up fucking." Then I gave him the same advice my mother had given me as a youngster, years before. "Just relax and enjoy it."
My talking was finished. Closing my lips for a second time around my son's hard prick, I went down on him to his balls.
Richard's nuts were pink, hairless and smooth. When they rubbed against my lips it was like tasting candy. I wondered if the cum brewing within was as sweet as the flesh on the outside.
"Oh, Jesus," Richard was groaning, "you're using your teeth on me. Far-out."
Yes, it was true. I had them doing the work of a second pair of lips, nibbling on the inside while the originals chafed on the outside. My son's hard-on was being whipsawed by oral friction.
I became more and more anxious for him to come in my mouth, so I sought to accelerate the ejaculatory process. A couple of fingers in his tight young asshole, pressing down on his prostate, would undoubtedly do the trick.
My fingers slid under Richard's scrotum and slipped up the downy crack of his ass.
Halfway up I found his throbbing young anus and immediately penetrated it.
His ass was so tight that I could feel all the adjacent muscles working. Most emphatic, however, was the pulsing gland that lay just beneath the surface of the asshole. Richard's prostate-begging to be kneaded past the point of inflammation until his nuts exploded.
I probed and pinched the hyper-sensitive gland, causing it to swell larger and larger, but to become increasingly solid at the same time. The extreme heat emanating from it made the adjacent chamber of his asshole blasting hot and my fingers were burning.
Then, twisting my digits into a hook, I pulled the plug. With the sting of my painfully extracted fingers burning through his loins, Richard grunted and shot his pelvis into the air.
At the same time his balls slammed together into a knot and his cock grew an extra inch in my throat.
He came like a wildcat. The slippery cum was spouting from his cock like it would never cease. A gusher in my mouth.
His cum was so sweet. I was finding out that the younger they are the better they taste. I hoped when I was eighty I was still screwing a young boy on the side once in a while.
To demonstrate that I was a better cock-sucker than Eva Little, I swallowed every drop of my son's hot jizz. My stomach was bloated and glowing from its rich burden.
"Does Eva Little drink it all when you come in her mouth, Richard?" I sought an evaluation of my performance.
"No," he answered, "she lets it run out all over her face and titties, then rubs it all over with her fingers."
"Oh."
"But I like the way you do it better, Mom."
I fell backward as though I'd just been punched in the jaw. Then, when I had recovered enough from the blow to focus, I found myself looking straight into my son's baby blue eyes. Those eyes were laughing at me.
"You—you've been awake the whole time," I stammered incredulously.
"Just ever since you started sucking my cock."
"You—you little sneak."
"Blame yourself, Mom. You give terrific head."
My ire abruptly subsided and was replaced by yearning anticipation. "Better than Eva Little, son?"
"Hah, that tramp has a sore in her face compared to that mouth of yours, Mom. The things you can do with your teeth, tongue and lips are fantastic."
I was reeling again, but this time from an overdose of pure joy. A mother goes through her whole life waiting for a tribute like this from one of her children.
But, of course, I had two kids. And now the other one stuck her nose into the proceedings.
"Hey, will you lookie there, boys," Robin said raucously to the convicts. "Little Richard and Big Mom are gettin' it on! Oooo-weeee!"
Within seconds, Richard and I were surrounded by the four remaining convicts and Robin.
They began to clap like spectators at a jitterbug contest. "Fuck-fuck—fuck-" was their chant.
I was outraged that Robin would embarrass us like this, but when I looked at Richard he didn't seem to mind. Apparently he was just getting to the action that had been going on in the house all morning and he liked what he saw.
"Your friends or Robin's?" he asked me with a smirk.
I shrugged. "Mine, I guess."
"Groovy."
"Fuck, fuck—" the chanting continued in the background.
I looked at his prick. It was harder than ever, curving like a bow from his wispy loins. He was ready to fuck under any circumstances.
"Shall we, Mom?"
"Why not?" I sighed. "I've already done everything else there is to do today. Why draw the line now?"
Robin and her four convicts applauded. "Get it on!" she whooped.
I was too shaken to make the first move, so Richard was the aggressor. Quickly stripping away his clothing to reveal his muscular young body, he came to me and pushed me to the floor. Grabbing my knee caps, he pried my legs apart and leered at my gaping pussy.
"Mom, I love your cunt," he said and all of a sudden everything was all right. How could such flattery from one's lover fail to remove all doubt and hesitation—especially when your lover was your own muscular teenage son?
Sure, I'd gladly fuck Richard in front of all these people. In fact, I was pleased to do it, for my son and I would be giving them an exhibition of lovemaking at its purest.
"Oh, stick it in me, Richard," I begged. "Stick your hard cock into Mother's wet pussy. I need you to fuck me so bad."
Holding his prick like a sword, he came to me. While I held my breath, the head slipped between my cunt and then jammed into my fuck-hole. I exhaled, began wiggling my ass and we were screwing.
"Look at them fuck!" Robin exclaimed from the sidelines. "I'd heard those rumors at school about Richard and Eva Little, but I didn't know it was anything' this juicy. Wow, my little brother really knows what to do with his cock."
A fair enough evaluation. Richard's thrust was hilted now and I could feel his smooth balls rubbing against my vulva while the head of his prick stabbed my womb.
"What does it feel like, Mom?" Robin wanted to know.
"Like I've died and gone to heaven," I sighed. "I'm glad one of the males in this family knows how to fuck."
"You mean Daddy is a dud?" Robin giggled.
"Yes. Just think of his cock as a wet firecracker and you've got the picture."
That broke everyone up. I was especially interested in Richard's, laughter, because as it rippled through him it sent strong shock waves through his prick. The jerky movement had the walls of my pussy undulating with orgasm, as I really started to come.
"Keep moving it around," I broke up the mirth with a command. "It feels like a rattlesnake inside me."
Richard's ass began moving as much as mine. His cock corkscrewed to the depths of my cunt. In my excitement, I threw my legs around his waist and drew him even closer to me until our naked bodies seemed to join as one.
He was bucking his pelvis now, powering his rocking loins with more and more energy.
His prick became a miniature triphammer inside me, the head slamming away with a staccato tattoo.
I knew that he was getting ready to join me in orgasm. Wanting to feel his balls before they were drained, I reached down and cupped them. They were amazing in their turgidity.
Richard was clearly going to come harder the second time than he had the first. The mythology of the sexual endurance of teenage boys was obviously true.
I gave his balls one last squeeze and let them go. Upon my release they sprang to the sides of Richard's prick just as the engorgement in my cunt expanded.
"Come!" I screamed. "Come inside your mother, son!"
He grunted like a stuck pig and then let loose with everything he had. Which was plenty.
As I'd expected, more than he'd ejaculated the first time. However, I had not anticipated that it would seem like fully twice as much.
The molten flow of the cum was lava-like in its intensity. My womb became a stickily filled balloon, filled to the point where it would have to burst.
All of a sudden the jizz reversed its direction and rolled toward daylight. Richard's cock was blasted out of the way as the cum poured from my cunt. It was gushing down my thighs, drenching the upholstery of the sofa.
"Oh, God, I love it!" Robin squealed. "There's nothing more exciting than a pussy that's just had its fill of cum. Just makes a girl want to get down there where the action is and lick it all up."
"Why don't you do it, then?" her impromptu boyfriend, Otis, suggested.
"Just watch me!" Robin whooped and then tumbled over the back of the couch so that she landed right between my legs.
I couldn't resist. "Lick it all off, Robin. Lick all your brother's sperm off your mother's pussy."
Her tongue flew to my cunt on command. The raspy taste-buds began scraping my gooey labia, sopping up the cum.
However, as it turned out, lapping mother dry was not my little girl's primary objective.
She'd just used that as an excuse to replace her brother between my legs. With plenty of excess jizz still splotching my crotch, Robin stopped using her tongue as a licking device and started using it as a probe.
Yes, she was tongue-fucking me—stiffening her oral organ and jamming it almost as far into my box as her brother's hard cock had gone. How lucky could a mother be? First, being made love to by my son and now this!
Being a female with an innate understanding of anatomy, Robin knew which points to stimulate within the spasming maw of my cunt. The lancing tip of her tongue scored point after point, as my orgasmic tally mounted.
Then her hands pressed against my tits and she began working my nipples along with orally fucking me. Blessed with breasts herself, she knew just how to play with mine.
I wanted to reach down and play with her tits, too, but before I could figure out a way, Richard had beat me to it. Straddling his sister's back like he was riding a horse, he reached down and grabbed the little jugs, his fingers fumbling for the nipples.
I couldn't see if his cock was still hard. However, Robin delightedly informed all of us that it was.
"Wanna fuck sis in the ass with that monster between your legs, Richie?" she took her tongue out of my cunt long enough to ask. "I wouldn't mind it at all."
"Sure thing," he said and removed one of his hands from her breasts so he could guide his prick to the right hole. When Robin screamed into my pussy, I knew he had it in—and deep.
The convicts started getting jumpy. I guess they didn't like the Haley family stealing the show from them. In any case, they were clearly making plans to jump into the fray.
But they needn't have conspired. For right after she had gotten used to her brother's cock in her ass, Robin looked up and openly invited them to dive on the pile. "I want everybody fucking or sucking!" she declared.
All of a sudden I was a recipient of a cock in the mouth-J didn't know whose it was.
Another one slid between -my tits while Robin pushed the two mounds together so they would feel like an external cunt.
There were two more cons and they advanced to the rear to check out the pickings. What they found there, of course, was an unoccupied asshole—mine—and an unoccupied pussy, Robin's. It would take some imaginative maneuvering, but they would each have their cock stuffed in to something tight within moments.
Finally they managed it. My asshole was being filled with inch after inch of phallic meat and the same thing was happening in Robin's pussy. How that old sofa held all seven of us I'll never know.
I guess the main reason we didn't topple was that we moved in perfect synchronization.
We had meshed together into a machine, a sex machine.
Individualism took a backseat to the group experience. Everything was shared.
Whenever Robin or I felt a new surge of orgasm, we passed along the vibes to the men. It provided the effect of making them feel they could come as continuously as a woman, a treat previously denied them.
All of the cocks involved had had more than their share of action today, but they were all as hard as rocks. There was no question that they could all come again.
That trigger-happy teenager, Richard, was first to shoot his wad. I knew this because Robin cried, "Oh, Richie, your cum is so hot in my ass! Are you ever going to stop?"
Within ten seconds, I was wondering the same thing in reference to my tightest orifice.
The convict cornholing me had erupted like a geyser. I knew just how Robin felt.
Then, simultaneously, Robin was getting it in the cunt and I was getting it in the mouth.
Only my tits remained to be irrigated.
The prick between my jugs finished up its jerking movement and thrust its head all the way to my chin. Then, as it ejaculated, it drew backward, leaving a trail of cum from my face to my belly before it finished spurting.
The jizz would not stay in any of the holes where it had been deposited. The overflowing excess was drenching both our naked fuck-locked bodies, but particularly Robin's. She just happened to be in the right place at the right time.
When the cocks finally withdrew and Robin and I were alone on the sofa, I could see just how sticky she really was. The poor girl looked like she was melting.
However, her spirit was just as strong as ever. Noticing her dripping condition, she opened her arms and legs and invited me to her. "I licked you off, Mother," she pointed out, "now it's your turn to do the same."
I was tired from fucking so much, but the minute my little girl opened up her beautiful young body to me my energy returned with a surge. All of a sudden I went from aching to feeling as though I had just begun.
I attacked Robin with my tongue, ferrying glob after glob of semen into my mouth. In the process I got closer and closer to her sweet cunt.
Then, at last, her golden twat was right under my nose. My nostrils flared from its raunchy scent. I forgot about licking up the rest of the cum and began tongue-fucking it.
She closed her thighs around my head as I reveled in my first taste of my daughter's succulent honey-pot. It was a toss-up which was more orally satisfying-eating her out or giving my son head.
As though she were trying to swing my vote in her favor, Robin decided to up the ante.
"Have you ever sixty-nined with another woman, Mother?" she made her intention clear with a question.
I'd heard, of course, of this classic sex act, but was totally ignorant of it in terms of action. I had never knowingly sixty-nined a man, let alone a girl.
"Do it!" I cried. I was tingling with anticipation. My first sixty-nine!
Even though she was the one on the bottom, Robin moved into position with ease.
Manipulating my arms and legs as though I were her puppet, she swiveled around beneath me until my gaping pussy was dripping in her face from the gap of my buttocks.
The whole time my tongue remained in her cunt, twisting around along with her body.
My twisted tongue snapped like a rubber band just as the lips of Robin's mouth sealed the lips of my cunt.
Our tongues penetrated further and further, entering our wombs. Robin was such an expert at this that it became clear she had saved her virginity until this day by only having sex with women. Her innocence had only been heterosexual.
How many other girls and women had she sixty-nined? and more important, were any of them as good as I was?
Oh, well, if we got away from these convicts alive, I could always find out the answer to that later. Getting to really know my daughter—and my son—seemed like the most exciting prospect of my life. If we lived through this, we would come out of the experience with a totally new and unique relationship. I'd have all the sex I wanted at home even if my husband, Bill, never touched me again.
Robin and I were coming, each one's orgasm feeding the other. The sofa had remained stable with seven people fucking and sucking at once on it, but now it began to tremble from just the two of us sixty-nining.
However, we were climaxing too hard to be aware of the precariousness of our support. It was difficult to relate to something as mundane as the sofa's limitations when we were sure we were soaring, exceeding the boundaries of the universe in our orgasmic flight.
When legs gave way and the sofa pitched over, we went sailing across the room, landing in a heap. The impact drove our teeth into our pussies and we cried out with alarm.
I looked up from Robin's crotch to see what had happened. The sofa was tipped on its side, however this was not what commanded my attention. I couldn't believe my eyes. The place was empty.
"Where did they go?" I blurted.
"Who? You mean those guys?" Richard asked, as he sauntered out of the kitchen with a peanut butter and jelly sandwich he'd prepared himself while his sister and I were sixtynining.
"Yes, yes, what happened to them?"
"They left a few minutes ago," he shrugged. "Say, who were those guys, anyway? You said they were friends of yours, but I've never seen 'em around before."
"You won't believe this, kids," I said in a dramatic hush to emphasize the seriousness of the ordeal we'd just been through, "but those men were escaped convicts. One of them killed the warden."
To my astonishment, Robin broke out laughing. Suddenly I felt threatened.
"What's so funny?" I defensively insisted.
"What makes you think those dudes were convicts?" she toned down her laughter enough to ask.
"Well, the way they talked—the way they acted," I said in a rush.
"Did you ever hear one of them actually say they were escaped cons?" Robin smirkingly inquired.
I started to tell her that of course I had, but then held back the words at the last instant. In an abrupt inventory of my brain I could not actually recall any of those men ever having specifically stated they were escaped prisoners. They had referred frequently to leaving the penitentiary by force, but had never acknowledged their exact status.
When I finally spoke, I settled on a more qualified version of my originally intended remark. "If they weren't convicts, why were they wearing those grubby prison rags? I saw it stenciled on their clothes."
"Simple," Robin clucked. "They were guards not convicts and guards wear prison-issue clothing, also. They got all torn up to look like prisoners when they were escaping through the woods."
"That's ridiculous," I voiced my incredulity. "Why would guards be escaping from the penitentiary?"
"These particular guards were operating a heroin ring from inside the prison," Robin said evenly, as though she knew what she was talking about. "When they were cornered with the goods, they shot their way out."
"I don't believe you. How could you know that?"
"One of them is an undercover cop and he told me while we were fucking," she replied.
"B-but that's im-impossible," I stammered in confusion. Ben King had been murdered by Otis before he'd gotten to first base with Robin.
"No, it's not," she responded while looking me straight in the eye, something she could never do when lying. "His name is Johnny Otis and he told me everything."
"But he's the one who killed the warden!" I blurted.
"Just a cover-up so the. others would think Johnny was as tough as they are," she attempted to explain, as I shook my head in bewilderment.
I just stared at her. I now believed her, but that didn't keep me from being stunned.
"Oh, my babies," I sobbed with joy. "What have I done to deserve such wonderful children?"
"Nothing you're not going to be doing a lot more of," Robin chuckled. "Richard and I can promise you that."